


Thinking About You

by Lafaiette



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Gore, Spideypool Valentine, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1226134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wade goes to a mission and Peter is worried, because he knows he won't take care of himself.</p>
<p>An extra fic for the Spideypool Valentine exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinking About You

"Be careful, okay?"

Wade laughs, a high sound coming from his chest, and adjusts the mask on his face with a grin.

"Petey, did you forget I have a healing factor?"

"No, but…"

A sigh and Peter’s hand is on his shoulder, calloused fingertips rubbing small circles on it, soothing the usual burning pain of his skin.

"It’s not cool knowing your boyfriend is getting blown up or people are shooting missiles at him, you know? Promise me you will be careful." His look hardens. "I know you can heal, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to defend yourself or avoid bullets."

Wade’s smile under the mask grows and it looks fond, not amused, now.

They had this conversation many times already and every time Peter tried to convince him to respect himself and his body more. To treat himself as a human, as a _person_ , and not as a mere walking sack of meat holding guns.

"I’ll try, Petey." Wade says with a nod. It’s true, he always tries, but it’s still difficult, it’s still hard for him to remember he has a dignity, to _accept_ it. Peter does, he treats Wade as a human being, and the merc really doesn’t know how he does it.

He asked him once and Peter’s answer has been a smile, a caress on his disfigured face and: “Because that’s what you are, dork.”

"Don’t rip off your limbs to… to do something." Peter continues, the worried frown wrinkling his features.

"Like what, Petey?" Wade snorts as he puts on his belt.

"I-I don’t know! Why did you rip off your limbs before? To make traps? To distract your enemies? To use them as weapons?" Peter flinches, thinking about the pain Wade must have felt… if he did at all. Sometimes his body forgets about pain, it just _ignores_ it because it’s something completely normal and the nerves must be almost used to feeling it.

Peter feels like crying when he thinks about this and even now he lets out a small sniff.

"Well, mostly I did that because I was a huge masochist…" Wade mumbles absentmindedly, so calm and at ease, as if they are talking about the weather or the last episode of _American Horror Story_. He sees Peter’s sad expression -  _oh God, is he crying? Think, Wade, think!_ -, so he hurries to say: “But I don’t do that anymore, you know it, Peter! I promise, no detached limbs. I’ll dodge every bullet and treat my body like a sacred temple to host tacos.”

He sighs when Peter’s lips curl into a reassured smile.

"You be careful too." the merc says, this time more sternly, while opening the window. He takes Peter’s hand and kisses it, then his cheek, then his lips. "If I hear on the news that you got hurt, I’ll throw away all your books and dye your hair in the night."

"Knowing you, you would choose the most obnoxious colour ever." Peter laughs not letting Wade’s hand go, squeezing it and tugging it gently.

"Fuchsia, like those speedos I bought two weeks ago! Or pink… mmh… pink _…_ ”

"Don’t even think about it, honey." Peter pats his butt, making him yelp, and then Wade gives him another kiss and a toothy smile covered by the mask before going down the external fire escape.

Peter’s own smile slowly disappears, replaced by the anxious expression he had before.

He hopes that, whatever adversaries Wade is going to deal with, they will be stupid, incompetent or slow enough not to hit and hurt him.

"Come on, Peter." he grumbles draping wearily a hand over his face. "He’s a grown up man. He… he can take care of himself, he can do it."

He’s still feeling nervous, though, nervous and scared, even if it makes no goddamn sense. No matter how many times he sees Wade’s healing factor work, he can’t still help but fearing for his safety.

He starts working on some pictures, hoping to distract himself.

"This week is going to be so hard…"  
  


\- - -

  
Seven days later a bloody Deadpool with his costume shredded and torn enters from the same window he exited from.

Peter stares at him from the couch, a book on his lap, and Wade waves at him. Flinching and groaning. Because there is a damn hole on his shoulder, so big Peter can see the wall beyond.

The young man opens his mouth, then closes it and sighs through his nose, his face pale and his lips set in a straight line.

He gets up, places the book on the coffee table and Wade gulps.

"Hi, honey! Okay, I admit this looks bad, but it doesn’t hurt, I swear! The nerves are so damaged I can’t feel anything, it’s… it’s like having a second butthole, but this is on my shoulder instead!"

Peter is in front of him, now, and Wade closes his eyes when he slowly removes his mask. He hears him gasp; he knows his face looks even worse than usual. Acid guns are so unfair and his healing factor still hasn’t kicked in to repair the damages. That shit must have been so _professional!_

"Petey…" Wade tentatively opens his eyes and his boyfriend is paler, his hands clutching the red and black mask, the fingers trembling around the fabric.

"Peter, sweetie, don’t cry!" The merc brightens and takes out something from his pouches. "I came back in time for St. Valentine’s Day, right? Look, I have something for you, I took it during the mission and I thought it was perfect for my baby boy."

Peter sniffs, forcing back the tears, and looks down at Wade’s open palm. It’s a little red stone, spider-shaped with little gems on it. It looks tribal, elegant, intriguing and cute.

"I don’t know if you remember, but I went to this shitty jungle island and there was this cool tribe. They offered me food - it sucked - and then I saw these stones. They make them to fight bad luck, apparently spiders are loved over there. So I took one while bad people found me and shot acid at me." Wade grins and his melted skin makes a weird sound. "You’d be a hell of a celebrity over there! I think the tribe is still safe, we should visit them together sometime soon."

Peter takes the stone and turns it over in his hands, admiring the details, the way it shines, the drawings on its back.

"You… you could use it as a bookmark. For your… umh, books." Wade is clearly embarrassed now, not knowing how to deal with Peter’s silence. "Or it could be your mascot! Spidey Jr.! People would love it, it would help you with your rep, I think." He clears his throat and jumps a little when Peter places a hand on his blood-soaked chest.

"Oh no. No, Petey, don’t cry. You don’t like it? I can go buy you something now or…"

"You worried about me and St. Valentine’s Day while people threw acid at you?" There are tears in Peter’s eyes and a smile on his lips. Wade nods and then those same smiling lips are pressed on his own with urgency, passion and gentleness.

"You… you stupid…" the younger man says when they pull apart, letting out a breathy laugh and shaking his head. "I love it, Wade. It’s… sweet and corny and so _you_.”

The merc’s chest swells with pride and happiness and his grin reappears.

"Come now." Peter says taking his hand, placing the stone on the table and helping Wade to reach the bathroom. "You need a bath and then some rest."

Wade tilts his head to look at the hole in the shoulder; the muscles are slowly repairing themselves and the pain is getting stronger. He grimaces, but Peter is there for him, fingers like feathers on his skin.

"I’ll give you my present later." the young man whispers, peppering his cheek with kisses, not caring about the bloody skin, his hands working gently to remove the costume.

"What is it? What is it?" Wade asks eager like a child and Peter’s laugh goes straight to his crotch, sending a spark of pleasure through his aching body.

"You will see, honey."

**Author's Note:**

> I'll let you imagine what Peter gave Wade for Valentine's Day. ;D


End file.
